The Strongest Love There Is
by Kristen APA
Summary: This year, Mother's Day has a different meaning for Anna. [Spoilers for Series 6]
MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SERIES 6

 **A/N:** Aaah, this is the first Mother's Day in the UK since Anna became a mother in canon. :') Also, she becomes a mother in the PBS airing tonight, how fitting!

 **Disclaimer** : I don't own _Downton Abbey._

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 _They do say a mother's love is the strongest love there is._

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 _14 March, 1926_

There was a special Sunday in spring that Anna never took much notice in. She was estranged from her own mother, preferring to memorialize her with her more useful sayings and mantras. When the other housemaids and hall boys would go visit home, she just stayed put. The town of Downton was her birthplace anyway and it had become her home once more. And it allowed her to spend more time with the housekeeper who often fulfilled the maternal role in her life.

Her feelings on the day changed as she grew older. It was oft forgotten due to circumstances, but also with dwindling staff numbers, there was less of a painful reminder in either direction. Sometimes it had been more bittersweet to see the family's little ones, wistful when she'd look out the window and see Nanny taking them down for their romps in the garden. Around this time last year, she had been a mix of worry and hope. The appointment with Dr Ryder allowed her to dream again for the future.

That future was now. She was awoken to cries of her son that March morning. The time did not matter, but it was before dawn. Anna was once a deep sleeper, but in more recent years, slumber was a harder task thanks to anxiety. Then it had been a challenge in the latter months of her pregnancy, as the baby had been a night owl even then, deciding bedtime was perfect for exercise. She never took for granted the movements of her then unborn child, but there was only so much smoothing her tremendous bump that she and John could do in an effort to settle him down for her to catch some much needed sleep.

But now their most precious son was here with them. Anna groggily lifted her head to see that John was already up and retrieving William from his bassinet. Her husband was the ever so wonderful father Anna knew he would be, always on alert for changing wet nappies and helping with these late night and early morning feedings. She assumed most men would ignore the cries and try to fall back asleep, but here John was settling their son into her arms and keeping them company while she nursed.

It was becoming a rhythm now, she thought, unlacing her nightgown, her darling boy latching on. She might have felt exhausted, but she'd never grow tired of holding her child, still amazed that he had finally came into being and that he was theirs. She stroked his fine blonde hair, and traced his arm with her finger. It still remained even surreal today. These moments she cherished, as her arms seemed empty when he wasn't in them. No one had spoken to her of the emotional transition from carrying the baby within oneself to them being out in the world. She observed his movements now instead of feeling them, and she had a hard time taking her eyes off him. Nursing was a connection that still allowed her to nourish him, and hopefully when the time came to wean, she also would be able to start to gradually let him be more independent, knowing one day he'd fully grow, years from now. But he'd always be her son, her wondrous miracle a source of pure joy after so much darkness.

The room wasn't well lit, but watching Anna with William provided John with the light he need. He ran his fingers along the baby's foot, placing his other arm around his wife's shoulders, occasionally reaching to stroke her golden tresses. She was a complete natural, something that John never doubted, but it was so mesmerizing to actually see in action after dreaming it for so long.

William finished feeding and looked up at his mother and gurgled happily in thanks. Effortlessly, John took him from her and patted him on the back and Anna tied back up her front. If their son wasn't in her arms, she loved seeing him in his father's.

"You go ahead and go to sleep, darling. Get some rest. I'll see about putting him down again for the night."

"Only if you're certain."

"I am." He brushed a kiss across her temple.

She ran her finger along William's cheek, him cooing at her touch. "You be a good boy and settle down for Daddy, then." She sank back into the pillows, and let much needed slumber engulf her.

* * *

Anna next woke up on her own accord, drifting back to into the realm of the conscious. It was blissful, to wake up natural, but then she panicked slightly upon seeing the time. Not only did the clock read later than she expected, but the daylight filtered into the room from the curtains. Her husband, she finally noticed, was missing beside her.

But before she could get out bed, the door swung open, John peeking in with a tray.

"Good morning," he whispered, tipping his head to the bassinet to indicate that the baby was still sleeping.

"What's all this for?" she asked, taking the tray from him as he reached her.

"Well because it's Mothering Sunday, of course." Her first. He beamed.

She was too overwhelmed, her mouth opening and forming words but they didn't come out. It was surreal enough that she had indeed become a mother, let alone now had a day in which she was to be celebrated for it. Finally she said, "I'd forgotten all about that. I don't think anyone went home for it this year so…"

John grinned. "Yes, but you are home for it. Even if William is a little too young to celebrate with you now, I did think we needed to mark the occasion." As if on cue, there were whimpers from the cradle.

"Oh, it's has to be past time to feed him again." She went to extend her arms but remembered the tray was now holding.

"It's all right, have a bite, and I'll hold him for a bit. I've also had Mrs Patmore aside a cake for us for later."

Anna looks down at the tray's contents finally. She recognized the purple flowers right off, her smile growing larger upon seeing them in the little vase. She remembered how hard her heart had pounded when he brought her a tray so similar to this one when she had had that cold all those years ago. Now the man she had had a crush on was her husband of almost seven years and the father of her child.

She noticed a card tucked between the trays dishes. John brought William over to the bed. "Go ahead and open that and at least have a bit of toast before I hand him over." He bounced the baby lightly to soothe him. William hadn't broken into cries yet, but he knew he was pushing his luck.

The card was store bought, decorated with flowers, but John had inscribed in his personal note.

 _My darling Anna,_

 _You have been through so much but you have come through it all because you are the strongest and most remarkable woman I know. I am so lucky to call you my wife and now even luckier to call you the mother of our son, and I thank you every day for that._

Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. "John, this is too much."

He shifted William to free a hand and take hers. "Nonsense." Their expressions of love and joy filled in the rest.

The baby clapped eyes on his mother and wiggled, babbling. Anna laughed, pure as bells, setting the tray on the nightstand. "You tried."

* * *

Days in bed were still not something she was accustomed to. And yet she cherished them greatly, and not just because of the fatigue of having a newborn, because it meant spending more time with him. While she always loved the hustle and the bustle of the Abbey, her favorite moments now at work had been sneaking up back to the nursery just to see her boy, and remembering that he was hers. She'd only been back a few weeks, and while she was determined to give it a go, never was it more evident that her role in life had changed.

She should have known that John was plotting something when he had shifted his full day off today to match hers. And she also now realized why Lady Mary had granted her this day off to begin with. After tidying up the kitchen, he gathered up his books – including one of nursery rhymes he purchased in the months leading up to William's birth – and climbed into bed next to his family. Reading out loud had been a ritual between them throughout their married life, but now it was even greater as they grew from two to three.

As John read, Anna looked down in her arms at William, blissfully asleep, so perfectly looking, with a hint of a smile on his face. She traced his face lightly, as not to wake him, and then ran her finger down to count his little fingers. It still amazed her that this blessing was theirs after all this time, after so much heartbreak and sadness. And now she was filled with so much joy that she felt she could burst.

John paused, looking down at his wife and son, himself beaming with pride. It made him so happy to see that Anna finally was the mother that she always deserved to be.

"Happy Mother's Day," he whispered.

She smiled up at him, and leaned to kiss him.

After years of struggle, she was finally who she was meant to be.

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 **A/N:** Thank you so much for reading!


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